Ford sat up with a wide-eyed look, fixing his glasses that had been startled off the bridge of his nose.

"What is it?" He asked, suddenly far more serious than he had been only moments before. "Is something- Burning?"

Alice took a deep breath, "Is something burning in the kitchen?"

"I-" Mabel started, twisting her mitted hands in front of her. "I need help baking."

Ford and Alice relaxed, the former dog-earring his book and closing it in front of him. Alice closed her novel, trying to engrain chapter three, page thirty-five in her mind.

"Grenda's throwing a party for Marius when he comes to visit and I volunteered to make cupcakes!" Mabel explained, her hands still twisting in front of her. "I was like 'yeah! I can totally bake a batch of cupcakes!' But as it turns out...

Alice stared behind the girl, smoke unfurling from the back doorway, inevitably followed by the screeching of the fire alarm inside.

"I can't."

"We should take care of that-" Alice said, pressing her lips together.

"Agreed-" Ford responded, over her shoulder.

Alice slipped past Mabel, shaking her head as Ford followed her to the kitchen. Mabel dashed past them, and Alice grabbed a rag as she entered the kitchen. Ford, unruffled, dragged a chair over the smoke detector and disabled it as easily as flipping a light switch. Alice slipped to the window, shoving it open and fanning out the smoke with her rag as Ford stepped down from his chair.

Mabel looked incredibly guilty as they attempted to waft the smoke out, Alice armed with a rag and Ford slipping off his coat to follow. Alice noticed the trail of flour spilling along the floor, the counter, and Mabel's sweater, along with a similar mess of ingredients.

"Mabel," Alice turned to the girl. "Why didn't you ask for some help?"

"It does look like you could use a hand," Ford commented. "Why didn't you ask for help sooner."

"I'm sorry Grunkle Ford, I just-" Mabel took a deep breath, her face twisted with worry, wilting under her despair. "I wanted to make them myself. But I need these cupcakes and I- I need your help!"

She suddenly pointed at Alice, "And your help. Both of you need to help me with this."

Oh, dear... Alice glanced between Mabel and Ford. Mabel with her patented puppy-dog eyes and Ford with his confusion. After a moment of those sad dog eyes, Alice sighed, reaching out and patting the girl's shoulder reassuringly.

"It's alright, Mabel. Baking is a difficult art, even professionals have the day off. And um..." She glanced at the oven that still leaked smoke. "I think some adult supervision might be good for you."

Mabel nodded, glancing between Alice and Ford. "Well, it'll be easy peasy with you and Grunkle Ford helping me."

"Why would you need both of us, Mabel?" Ford asked, raising his brow at his great-niece.

"Because- Because we need to make, like, a bajillion of these!" Alice suddenly realized what this was, and she had no idea how correct she would be. "So many! This is a HUGE party. Plus, the more people that make them, the more LOVE these cupcakes will have! There needs to be SO MUCH LOVE in these cupcakes."

"That doesn't-" Ford started, but Mabel wielded her puppy eyes like a sword in battle, and she had a high proficiency. 

"Pleeeeease, Grunkle Ford?" She begged, her eyes wide. "You and Alice are super conveniently the only ones who can help me!"

"Maybe Dipper-"

"He's filming today-" Alice told Ford, resigned to her fate.

"It's gotta be you two!" Mabel agreed, beaming as if she'd gotten the biggest present on Christmas. Ford glanced out the window, his hand rubbing absentmindedly at the back of his neck. And Mabel gave Alice a wink, a conspiratorial wink, and she knew.

You little devil...

This was the date with Ford, and was it getting hot in there? Or was it just the oven?

"Well..."Ford started, glancing between Alice and Mabel.

"Please, please, pleeeeease, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel begged, her face suddenly innocent and desperate once more. "Alice is already gonna help out, right, Alice?"

"Yes," Alice breathed out with a smile, a hand on her hip. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she dared a look at Ford, oddly contemplative compared to his previous avoidance. He faced her for a fleeting moment, she only caught it out of the corner of her eye, and his attention was back on Mabel.

"Alright," He conceded. "What do we need to do?"

"Yes!" Mabel suddenly shrieked. "Okay! The first rule in baking: wear an apron! There's never a wrong time to make a fashion statement."

Mabel pulled two aprons out, seemingly from the inside of her sweater sleeves, one in scarlet red and the other in white. Alice had no idea where she would even hide them in her sleeves before Mabel tossed her the red apron and the white to Ford. Alice unfolded the apron and read the words "BURN BABY BURN" printed across the chest with a picture of a flaming grill under it. Fittingly enough, it smelled a little like smoke.

Alice slipped it on over her head, glancing at Ford's which had some green text she couldn't decipher from her angle. But as he looped it over her head and tied it, she caught them and smiled. "MY OTHER OVEN IS A BUNSEN". Alice managed to stifle a laugh as she read the text, clearly over his broad chest.

"Hey Ford," Alice smiled, tying her apron around the waist. "Are you made of copper and tellurium?"

It only took him a second to flush pink with understanding, his hands fiddling with the hem of his apron.

"Ha, uh... Okay, Mabel," He very smoothly managed to redirect. "What's our next step?"

"The second step in baking is to know your recipe!" Mabel grinned, the joke flying over her head. "It's got everything! The ingredients! The instructions! The temperature!"

Ford glanced over at the counter, Alice following his gaze and he slipped a piece of paper from a pile of flour. Judging from the frilly-looking photo of a three-tiered cake on the back, Alice assumed it was the recipe.

"And the third rule in baking is to forget your recipe!" Mabel shouted, taking the paper from Ford's hand.

"Um... No-" Alice stepped forward, yanking the paperback from Mabel.

"But that's only if rule two doesn't work out!" Mabel groaned, her eyes rolling. "How're we looking, Grunkle Ford?"

"I was worried we'd be low on sugar," He muttered as Alice handed the recipe back. "But I think we'll make it. Are you sure switching recipes, Mabel? There're ingredients listed here that aren't already on the counter."

Mabel laughed loudly, attempting to clap Ford on the back (she only reached his elbow) and Alice glanced at the over. Whatever baked goods Mabel burned earlier was a fabricated failure. Alice glanced at the stovetop, an open box of store-bought cookies confirmed her suspicion.

"Oh Grunkle Ford," Mabel laughed, almost awkwardly this time. "You tell the best jokes."

"That wasn't a joke-"

"Oh look!" Mabel cried out, swinging her arms toward the bag of flour. "We need flour and I already have that out! Next?"

Ford read aloud, Alice and Mabel moving around the kitchen and gathering the ingredients as he called them out. Alice then set to work on finding utensils, searching through unfamiliar drawers Mabel pointed out to her. After opening nearly every cupboard, Alice came up with an array of mismatched measuring cups, two half teaspoons, and a dented tablespoon.

Good enough.

"How many cupcakes do you need for tomorrow?" Alice asked, settling the utensils on the counter.

"Hmm..." Mabel mused, smirking. "At least... A hundred."

Alice narrowed her eyes at the girl, and Mabel sent back a series of gestures, telling her to go along with it. Alice glanced at Ford's thoughtful face, seemingly buying the story.

"So since the recipe makes 20 to 25, we have to..." Ford paused, seeming to count.

"We quintuple the recipe," Alice filled in, reaching behind to tighten her apron and pull her hair into a ponytail.

"Exactly what I was thinking," Ford beamed at her as Alice tied her hair back. "If we play our cards right, we could get an exact 120, making full use of the cupcake pan each time."

She was almost bewildered that Ford didn't question the quantity. Instead, he started to factor in how many acceptable cupcake pans he could find, grumbling as he searched through the clangs and dull thuds of the bakeware.

"Oof-" Ford groaned. "When is the last time Stanley... Ah! There they are. Looks like we have one that's used and one that hasn't. Alice, if you could get the pan that's already in the oven. If we can manage to clean it-"

"Uh, no, definitely uncleanable," Mabel interjected, a nervous look crossing her face as she gestured to dispose of the evidence of her baking failure. "It's burnt. Batter everywhere. Alice, can you...?"

Seizing the chance while she had it, Alice snapped the oven open, grabbed whatever was left inside with the oven mitts, and rushed outside. She stopped when she reached the trashcan midway around the Shack. She shook out the pan, a couple of store-bought cookies dropping out of the hot but serviceable pan, that Alice left next to the can, returning to the kitchen with a roll of her eyes.

"That pan was..." Alice started as Ford and Mabel's eyes landed on her. "Not salvageable. Toasted."

Ford chuckled, and when he turned back to the recipe, Mabel gave her a wink and two thumbs up. I can't believe I'm bemusing this. Alice saw that Ford brought a mixing bowl out while she'd been gone, and wiped most of the excess flour from the counter. He settled easily back into the role of recipe reader now that she'd returned, "I've already turned down the oven to the correct temperature so our next step is to add butter."

"I'll measure it out!" Mabe grinned.